Baby Steps
by Leigh Adams15
Summary: The conversation that should have taken place during Episode 1x09


**Title: **Baby Steps (1/1)

**Author:** Leigh Adams

**Pairing:** Michael/Nikita

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count:** 804

**Summary:** The conversation that should have taken place during Episode 1x09

**Author's Notes:** So, this is a new experience for me, as I've never written Nikita!fic before. Please be gentle! An extension of a scene from episode 1x09 ("One Way"), this was written as a present for Kate's as she's a fellow Nikita fan (and Michael lover. Mmmmm...). The first bit of dialogue obviously comes straight from that ep. I hope y'all enjoy this!

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The room felt big- _too_ big- for the alloted amount of space. Her steps were muffled against the plush carpet as she turned from Michael, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Michael had no reason to trust her, she _knew_ that, but hearing those words from her old- _former?_- friend still hurt.

Turning to face him again, she spoke.

"You wanna know what I want? After we kill Kasim, I want you to take a look at your loyalties, and I mean a good look. You're not blind to what Division's become: hits for hire, mop-up duty for thugs? Is that what you signed up for?"

Michael merely holstered his gun and replied, "Percy has his reasons."

"Percy's out of control," she replied heatedly, crossing the space between them, "and you've ingnored that in the hopes that through Division they'll be able to help you find Kasim." Voice softening, she said, "If we do this, you're free and clear."

He leaned in slightly, his tone _almost_ mocking. "To do what? Leave Division and join you?"

Her lips twitched in the barest hint of a smirk. "Baby steps."

Michael wasn't amused. "I should kill you right now and be done with it," he growled, his mouth fixed in a hard line.

"Yeah, but you won't," she shot back, shedding her leather jacket and draping it over the back of one of the expensive upholstered chairs littering the room.

"How do you know that for sure?"

Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she simply said, "Because you know I was right."

He scoffed, turning away from her as he started to unload his shoulder bag. Notes, photographs, e-mails, call logs; all the information he could gather together on Kasim's movements and operations. It was at his fingertips, yet it had taken him _years_ to nail down a physical location.

"You turned your back on Division, Nikita." _On me._ "What's right about that?"

"Have you never stopped to think about _why_ I ran, Michael?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing his back with a hard glare.

"You broke the rules," he retorted as he turned, fixing her with an equally harsh look. "You knew better than to get involved with a civilian. It was part of your cover, but you let the lines blur and it went too far. You _knew_ better than that."

"Daniel loved _me_." Her tone was passionate, though the words were softly spoken. "Not the character I was playing, not the woman Amanda molded, but _me_. Just Nikita."

Michael shook his head. "Do you really think he would have loved you if you told him the truth? That you were an assassin, a condemned murderer? Would your great love have loved you if he knew you were capable of murdering a man fifteen different ways with your bare hands?"

He never saw the hit coming, didn't notice it until the loud _smack!_ of slapping flesh echoed through the room. The force of the blow jerked his head to the side, and he instinctively whipped out his gun, ignoring the resonating sting in his cheek as he pointed it at her.

There were tears pooling in Nikita's eyes.

"What if you had been in my shoes, Michael?" she hissed, ignoring the lone tear that trickled down her cheek. "What if Percy had ordered the hit on Elizabeth, on Haley? It would have been easy enough, he has his hands in every dirty cookie jar on the face of the planet."

"Stop," he rasped.

"What if he wanted you to join him _so_ badly that he resorted to the only sure-fire way to get you into Division? He knew your thirst for revenge would be all-consuming, why not give you both means and motive?"

"But he _didn't_," Michael shot back at her, trying to ignore her argument.

"You don't know that," Nikita calmly said, her gaze never wavering from his. "And neither do I. But don't judge me until you've put yourself in my situation, Michael. You loved Elizabeth. I loved Daniel. And now they're both gone, and we're left with nothing more than a bitter desire for revenge."

He looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer. Slowly, he lowered the gun and set it down on the table next to his notes. Her words... he couldn't think on them. He couldn't imagine Percy having done something to him, to his wife and baby girl, like that.

But despite it all, he knew his mentor was capable of it. He'd seen the man do far, far worse.

Michael didn't notice her move until she was next to him, setting her own gun down next to his. They looked right together on the table, like a his-and-hers matched set.

"Like I said," she said softly, "baby steps."


End file.
